


All Work, No Play

by Idreamofhazel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Matchmaker Dean Winchester, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 06:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17055254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idreamofhazel/pseuds/Idreamofhazel
Summary: Requested by @murielthemagicalgirl: Reader crushes hard on Sam and works from time to time together with the boys. And she's introverted and a usually mature and serious person. But when she accidentally sees Sam without his shirt she gets hella flustered and awkward and Dean grins from ear to ear and teases her because of it until she confesses maybe that she indeed likes his brother, not knowing that said brother is standing behind her





	All Work, No Play

Your machete sliced cleanly through the neck of a falling vampire. As the body thumped to the floor, you drug the blade across your jacket with two quick swipes.

“You’re going to need some tide pens for that.” Dean Winchester stood behind you, chuckling to himself.

A quick glance around the room showed you that the last of the nest was fallen. The bloody mess had splattered and pooled on the victorian rug beneath your feet. There might have been some pieces of salvageable furniture elsewhere in the house but none in this room. Four dead vampires had stained the parlor with red. It was very Addam’s Family meets The Walking Dead. You picked up the arms of a vampire who fell across the velvet footrest and drug it across the floor. You dropped her on top of the one you just killed and headed for another one.

“What’s up with the pile? Or vamp-ile, if you will.” Dean couldn’t contain the pleasure he derived from coming up with that joke.

You dumped another body in your pile. Out of the corner of your eye, Sam knudged Dean with his shoulder and began to help you with the clean up task. When you thought no one could see your face, you smiled to yourself. You appreciated the help.

“I never knew a hunter that could smile about their work like that.” Dean was suddenly beside you, his voice in your ear.

“I never knew a hunter that cracked so many jokes on the job,” you said.

“Jokes keep the sanity alive, sweetheart.”

“Dean,” Sam chided from across the room.

“She’s worked with us enough times to know my style,” Dean said.

“And you’ve worked with me enough to know mine,” you shot back.

That elicited a smug smile from Sam.

Your cheeks grew hot as Sam looked at you with pride. Your cleverness was instantly cut back. No matter how confident you were, one look from Sam turned you into a stuttering mess.

“I know you won’t come celebrate with us,” Dean said, “All work, no play. It’s really sad.”

“I’ll go.” You faced the opposite direction of the Winchesters, bagging a vampire head. You could feel their wide eyes on the back of your head.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to take your notes or, or clean your knives?” Sam didn’t mean his question as a jab.

You smiled at his memory of your habits before turning around. “No. I’ll just do it tomorrow. Come on,” you said, slipping your knife into your boot and throwing the garbage bag full of heads over your shoulder, “It’s time to have some fun. Let’s party. Or whatever you do.”

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance as you walked out the stained glass door. The tattered blanket covering the glass gave up and fell to the floor as the lock clicked into place. Dean mouthed Fun?; Sam shrugged. Sam had never seen you with a drink in your hand, let alone in a bar. The thought of it made him worry that something else was going on. He’d have to ask you when Dean wasn’t around.

* * *

Being in a bar was an uncomfortable experience. You could handle hunting challenges with tact and grace but the dynamics of the drinking scene disoriented you. You alternated your attention between the stray threads on your shirt and taking sips of your jack and coke. Dean played pool for gas money while Sam sat next to you, finishing his second beer.

“So, honestly,” Sam said, “What made you decide to come out here? You trying to prove something to Dean?”

His smile was teasing and overwhelming.

“Uh, no. I,” you began, your cheeks growing hot, “I guess I-”

“Hey Sam!” Dean called out. You both turned your heads to the sound. Dean motioned Sam over from across the bar, “New game! Teams!”

“Hold that thought,” Sam said apologetically.

He took off towards the pool table, leaving you with the rest of your answer hanging on the tip of your tongue. The Winchester Pool Games lasted as long as Dean felt a winning streak. You’d have to explain another night, whenever you ran into Sam and Dean again.

You sucked your jack and coke dry, staring down the barrel of the straw until the last drop was gone. Dean whooped behind you. Maybe it was time to join the fun.

You grabbed a handful of peanuts, swung around on your stool, and hopped off. Sam was leaning over the pool table, the arch of his back displayed gracefully. He adjusted his pool stick with deliberation, his shirt hovering over the edge of the table, his hair falling over his cheek. He hit the cue ball with accuracy, sinking in two of the opponent’s with one strike, then stood proudly.

The other two men grimaced, unaware that Sam had such precision. There was a fair amount of money on the line.

You wandered over to a table with a satisfactory view of the game. Sam winked at you as one of their opponents tried to sink a ball but grumbled when he missed. The alcohol in your system gave you the sense to smile back with a laugh.

The stolen glances continued and ended when Dean declared victory with a sunken eight ball. They had played four games and won each of them. Sam bought three victory beers and handed one to you. Your eyes fell to the floor as the confidence you had wore off.

By the end of the beers, exhaustion had creeped up on all of you. You unanimously declared the night over, getting up to leave the bar in unison. Dean grabbed your shoulder from behind before you reached the door. Sam kept walking.

“Hey, you’re staying at the same motel as us, right?” he said, glancing over as Sam walked out the door.

“Yeah, why?”

“Can you come to our room? I wanna talk to you about something. I’ll send you a text when we’re decent.” He added a smirk but his request seemed off.

“Uhh, sure.”

“Cool.” Dean patted your shoulder then let his hand fall as he took off after Sam.

He left you standing in the middle of the bar without an explanation but with a hoard of questions. A deep voice slurred from across the bar. “You all alone now?”

There could only be about two reasons why Dean would ask you to his room. One, he was going to play a prank, or two, he or both Winchesters had been keeping a secret from you that had life-or-death ramifications.

The voice called out again. “He-eey you wanna drank I sayd?”

You were in the mood for none of it. You stalked out the door, letting it bang loudly behind you. Dean, or both, would hear it from you if one of them had decided to do something stupid again like sell their souls.

* * *

The text came shortly after you brushed your teeth and changed into sweats. You knocked four times on the thin, wooden door and waited. Dean took a long time to answer for someone who was expecting a guest.

The door flew open and instead of Dean’s face, Sam’s bare chest greeted you.

“Hey Y/N, what’s up?” Sam said.

“I, uh, Dean said he’d be here, but I guess I, I heard wrong. Sorry.” You kept your eyes anywhere but on his freshly showered six-pack. You noticed his pajama pants were plaid but you had to be careful where you looked there, too. You looked up but darted when you met his eyes. Then you moved down to his feet. They were bare.

“You can come in and wait for him if you want.” Sam was acting nonchalant. Way too nonchalant.

“No that’s ok.” You turned on your heels and fled.

_Well that was stupid! Could you have handled that situation any more poorly!_

“Hey Y/N!” Dean.

You stopped next to a row of vending machines, the light from their displays revealing Dean’s smug face.

“You said to meet you in your room. I went to your room. You were not there.”

“Well I’m here.”

You glowered at him. “I think you know what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do.”

You threw back your head and sighed. “You knew Sam would be there by himself.”

“Why is that a problem?”

“Because he was shirtless when he opened the door!”

Dean chuckled to himself. “I can’t say anything about what Sam chooses to do when I’m not there.”

Your cheeks grew hot again. “That’s not the point!” you sighed, “I can tell by the look on your face that you orchestrated this whole set up.”

“Set up for what?”

“You know exactly what.”

“Ooh, because you have a massive crush on my little brother?”

“Yes! Fine! Ok? And you knew he’d be there, probably shirtless, and you knew I’d answer the door completely unprepared and make myself look like an idiot!”

“You didn’t look like an idiot, Y/N,” Sam said.

_Sam._

You spun around. Now he wore a gray t-shirt paired with his sneakers and a facetious grin.

“Why are you here!” you cried.

He chuckled. “I wanted to get a snack.” He gestured towards the machines.

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head. “I didn’t really know what was going on.”

“So you don’t actually have a massive crush on me?”

“Well I-”

“Because that would be disappointing,” Sam said. His eyes never wavered from your face.

Your heart picked up speed as if it were going to fly out of your throat and the butterflies in your stomach felt more like a flock of hummingbirds.

Sam reached his hand for your elbow and pulled you close. You didn’t protest.

“I’ve actually waited a long time to do this,” he whispered to you. 

“Me too,” you breathed out.

Sam responded with a beaming smile before his lips met yours. The kiss wasn’t perfect; there were nose bumps, but it was everything you imagined it would be. You melted. Sam was a great kisser.

“Uh guys, I’m still here,” Dean said.

Sam didn’t stop so neither did you. You wiggled your arm out of his hold and waved Dean off. This is what he wanted after all, for you and Sam to finally admit your feelings for one another. How it was happening was all his fault really. You felt Sam smile against your lips and you mirrored him, putting your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, basking in the glow of an off-brand soda machine and a blinking vacancy sign. Having fun was the best decision you ever made.


End file.
